Chapter Three
891 Words
AMARIS POV.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Even after the black cars disappear and I’m finally alone in my tiny apartment, the silence feels wrong, too thin, too fragile. Every sound makes my heart jolt. Every showdown looks like a warning.
Grandma is asleep when I get home, curled on her side the way she always is, when her joints ache. I stand in the doorway longer than necessary, listening to her breath, counting each rise and fall of her chest like it might disappear if I stop looking.
The thought of losing her claws into me.
I sit on the edge of my bed fully dressed. Hands still trembling, replaying the might over and over.
The car, the scream. The weight of Elvis crashing into me as I dragged him back. The way his security looked at me.
Not thankful but alarmed. Like I knew too much.
By morning, exhaustion presses behind my eyes but fear keeps me upright. I help Grandma with breakfast, smile when she asks why I look tired, and lie easily the way I learned to. Years ago “I’m fine ‘’ I tell her. just a long shift’’.
She nods, but her eyes linger.
She always knew when I lied. She just never forces the truth out of me.
I leave for work with a knot in my stomach that doesn’t loosen all day.
By evening, the bar feels louder than usual. The laughter is sharp. The air is heavy. I keep glancing at the doors half expecting him to walk in, or worse expecting someone else.
When my phone buzzes behind the counter, I nearly drop a glass.
Unknown number
I shouldn’t answer.
Every instinct screams at me not to. But I did.
“Amaris’’ a male deep voice says calmly like he has every right to know my name.
‘’This is Elvis’’
My heart stumbles.
‘’I just wanted to be sure you made it home safely”.
The words are gentle, but something cold slides down my spine anyway. Because men like him don’t make calls like this unless they mean something. And whatever this means, it isn’t small.
‘’I did’’ I say carefully ‘’I’m fine’’.
There’s a pause, just long enough for me to imagine his expression. I remember his blue eyes from the night before ‘’controlled’ intentions, but unsettled .like he’d lost something he hadn’t known he was carrying.
‘’I owe you my life’’; he says quietly.
The weight of the sentence lands hard. Too heavy for strangers.Too intimate for safety.
‘’I didn’t do it for that,’’ I reply. ‘’ Anyone would’ve helped.
Another pause.
‘No’’ he says. They wouldn’t have’’.
Before I can respond, the back door of the bar cracks open I turn.
Two men step inside, not customers. Their clothes are too clean. Their eyes were too focused. One of them scans the room slowly and deliberately before settling on me.
My breath catches.
‘’Amaris’’ Elvis asks, tension rising in his voice what just happened’’
‘’They are here’’ I whisper.
The men smile.
Not kindly.
‘’I have to go’’ I say, already stepping back.
The call ends, but my heart beat doesn’t slow. One of the men approaches the counter, his gaze flicking briefly to the main tag on my chest like confirmation.
‘’You are hard to miss’’ he says softly. ‘’Brave girl pulling a man out of traffic like that’’.
My pulse roars in my ears.
‘’I don’t know what you are talking about’’.
He chuckles.
‘’Doesn’t matter. You don’t belong where powerful families fight. Curious get hurt’’.
‘’And their families’’, the other man adds casually.
The word family hits like a blow.
They leave without touching, without raising their voices, but the damage is done. The warning lingers long after the door swings shut behind them.
When Elvis security car pulls up outside minutes later, relief nearly takes my knees out. Elvis himself steps out this time, his expression dark, jaw tight, eyes scanning every inch of me like he is counting losses.
‘’What did they say’’ he asks.
I swallow.
‘’They know about my Grandmother.’’
The words land between us like broken things.
His hand curls into a fist, his control slipping just enough for me to see the fury beneath it. Not loud not reckless built terrifyingly contained.
‘’This is my fault’’ he says.
‘’No’’ I snap, surprising both of us, ‘’this is your family’’.
Silence stretches between us, thick with truth neither of us want to face yet.
‘’I can keep you safe’’ he says finally. But only if you stay close’’
I look past him at the street, at the life I barely manage to hold together, at the grandmother waiting for me at home.
Safely has never been free.
Neither is walking away.
‘’If I do this’’. I say slowly, ‘’ my grandmother comes first”.
His gaze locks into mine, unflinching.
‘’always’’ he promises.
I don’t know yet if promises like this survive wars like the one we’ve stepped into.
But as I climb into the car, heart pounding, one truth settles painfully clear.
Saving Elvis didn’t end the danger.
It invited it closer.
And this time, it knows my name.
- Writer
